Note: This was co-authored with the amazingly awesome terriblycontrite

Chapter 19

Means

Frustrated by the call with Hotch, Dave drops his phone onto his desk, finding himself unable to go back to the stack of paperwork he had been making a dent in before the conversation. He had expected that call to go much differently, unprepared for Hotch's rather cold dismissal of Kate's distress, and his pointed refusal to consider Dave's advice.

Clearly the Amelia Porter case, and Spencer's attack in particular, are weighing heavily on Hotch. As unit chief he bears responsibility for decisions made in the field, and having to answer for them is surely cause for reflection. However, the calls made in Salt Lake City were justifiable, and the fallout, while unfortunate, was also unforeseeable; all that being the case Dave can't fathom why Hotch is so eager to place blame and risk tearing the team apart.

When it was decided that the team would fly home, and Hotch would stay behind in Salt Lake City to wrap up the case, Dave was worried, and that worry has grown with every report back. After all, three additional murders, no breaks, and a very dangerous suspect who simply vanishes into thin air, does not read as progress. Dave feels helpless because he isn't there to offer any assistance, Hotch is on his own, and Dave is not at all sure that allowing Reid to work alongside him in the field, only days after being released from the hospital, is a viable solution. No, none of it is ideal and the only conclusion that Dave can come to is that they, the team, need to get back to the Amelia Porter case and end it once and for all.

With that decision made, Rossi stands up from his desk, heading off to find the others.

Derek watches as Penelope madly types away at her keyboard, periodically wheeling her chair from one monitor to another, pausing only to jot down notes on hot pink post its, using a purple pen that appears to be made of feathers. Feeling out of place, but needing to both be helpful and hide out, Derek tries to follow what's going on.

"What exactly is it that you're doing right now?" Derek asks from where he is perched on the far edge of Garcia's expansive desk.

"I told you sugar, I am helping Spencer." Garcia reminds him impatiently, reaching over to gently snatch a troll doll from his hand. "That is an original Thomas Dam troll doll from the 70's. Please don't touch, hon."

She instantly turns back to her screen, frowning as she skims what looks to Derek like an old newspaper article.

"Sorry, but you have all these…toys," he waves a hand all around him at the cluttered surface. "You don't ever do anything with them?"

With a sigh she spins her chair around, fixing him with a look. "They make me happy. They are the good things in life, and what I see on here," she gestures to her computer screen, "is often not so good."

"I know that, mama." Derek smiles at her, picking up a beanie kitten that is sporting a unicorn horn. "I just don't see why I can't enjoy them too. You don't want my mind to stay polluted, do you?"

She looks genuinely stricken, when he had only been teasing in an attempt to keep the mood light.

"Oh God no! Of course, you can enjoy them too, I didn't mean to be selfish." She leans over to squeeze his hand. "That one you're holding is Unicorn Kitty. She's a genuine beanie baby, an original from the fantasy animals' collection. Just be careful ok?"

Derek supposes that information is meant to add to his joy. Turning back to the computer, Penelope goes back to typing.

"Can you be more specific PG?" He asks, a little frustrated. She keeps saying she's helping Spencer but won't tell any of them how. "What are you doing for our boy wonder? I want to help too."

Fingers pausing on the keyboard, Penelope squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, before spinning back around to face Derek.

"Oh, I want to tell you! I promised Spencer I wouldn't though, because he thought the big boss man wouldn't approve…but well, he's not here right? So, I could tell you, I think? Right?" She puts her hands together under her chin in a prayer like gesture, eyes locked on Derek for approval.

He stands up, walking over to take Penelope's face in both hands so he can lean down and kiss the top of her head. "Baby girl, you can trust me. I only want to help. So, please tell Big Daddy all your secrets."

He laughs loudly, darting out of reach as she tries to pinch him. "Ew Derek!" She shouts, laughing, but sobering immediately.

Penelope looks past Derek, ensuring that they're alone, before motioning him to sit in the other chair.

"Back in Salt Lake City, when he was still in that hospital bed looking so hurt, so broken, and brave…" Penelope takes a second to blink away tears just thinking about it. "Spencer asked me to dig into Amelia's past. He thought she had to have committed other crimes, other murders, maybe even before what happened with Benton. He wanted to know about her time on the run, what she had done with all those years. He really thought it would help."

Derek nods. It's a solid idea, but they had already come up empty handed at the beginning of this case. It was the reason the team had to split up and cover separate locations. If they had known more at the time, if there had been more to know, they would have stuck together, and Amelia never would have gotten the best of them.

"You already did that though." Derek points out, a little off put. "I mean we needed to know more before we went after her, but I'm not sure it matters now."

Penelope is instantly and obviously offended. "I had no time then, Derek! Hotch was breathing down my neck, basically tapping his foot waiting for an answer and giving me ridiculously little to go on!"

Turning away to hide her tears, and how truly hurt she is, she puts up a hand to stop Derek when he goes to speak.

"Its not fair! I did the best I could and it kills me that it wasn't good enough!" She chokes out reaching for the box of tissues on the desk beside her.

Derek is horrified to have upset her like this.

"God, Garcia no!" Derek has to work to pull her into his arms because she is resistant. "That is not what I meant. I am so sorry it came out like that."

Petting her hair around the kitty ears headband she's wearing, Derek hugs her to his chest, and chides himself for being an insensitive jerk.

"I really am sorry, PG. I had no right." Derek says softly. "Really." He pulls back a little, using his thumbs to wipe tears and mascara from under her eyes.

Sniffling, Penelope sits up straight reaching for some more tissues, and Derek worries she won't continue.

"Seriously, let's start over and pretend I wasn't just a total ass, who made you cry. Please, tell me what you've been working on." Derek says, pulling her back into another quick hug.

She nods and blows her nose.

"Well, I started with Amelia's childhood but there wasn't very much to go on. Nothing out of the ordinary anyway. She was a good student, not much of a joiner, but also never in trouble." Clicking a few buttons, Garcia brings up a yearbook photo of a young Amelia, long dark hair combed over her shoulder, eyes staring directly into the camera, bright smile on her face. She was undeniably beautiful, but also very normal.

"She went to high school with Benton's sister Miriam, but we knew that already." Penelope continues, still wiping at her eyes. "I have searched online for social media accounts in both Amelia Porter and Sarah Ward's names and came up with nothing. The woman seems to stay away from the internet on purpose, which is good for her because I have found virtually nothing, except this…"

Derek watches as Garcia searches through folders, before clicking on a file that displays an image of what looks like the winners of a high school track meet. At least, the photo is taken on a track field, with a large school building in the background. There are six boys front and center, all proudly displaying medals and ribbons, the rest of their teams gathered behind them, crowded together to fit into the frame. He waits for Garcia to explain.

"Ok, so backstory! I searched day and night through crime scene photos and police reports, seriously the amount of caffeine I drank has to be experimental…anyway, I stuck to the areas where Amelia was sighted during the years she was off the grid and I did not come up with much. The few possibles I found I made into files and I gave them to Spencer, just hoping he would find some comfort in reading them over and feeling like he was doing something." She looks ashamed when she says it, and Derek understands. In reality she hadn't found anything, but she couldn't bear to tell Spencer that. Not when he was lying in a hospital bed, looking for any shred of hope.

"I assume there's more?" Derek asks, knowing there must be a twist here.

"Maybe! Yes!" Penelope exclaims, "I can't be sure yet, but hear me out. So, one of the files I gave Spencer was on a seventeen-year-old boy who committed suicide in 2006, in the North West Territories, after engaging in a relationship with a mystery woman, the very same year that Amelia was possibly sighted there. I had tried all sorts of search parameters, in all sorts of combinations, and this story came up, and I really wasn't hopeful because the boy was described as suicidal, and his death was ruled a suicide, so no reason to insert Amelia into the puzzle right?" Penelope pauses for affect, waiting for Derek to acknowledge that he is keeping up.

"Anyway, when I went back to the drawing board, I started taking a second look at everything in case I missed any teeny, tiny, minute, hidden detail that would give me some sort of lead to go on. And I got this!" Penelope waves at the screen, and using the mouse, zooms past the track team, away from the bleachers behind them, off to one side, where she zooms in even further.

Derek leans forward to squint at the screen, unsure what he's looking at exactly.

"Right there!" Penelope points excitedly with one long, hot pink fingernail. "That is Amelia Porter, at a high school track meet, in the North West Territories, in 2006! Get it?! I ran facial recognition software and everything, which was no easy feat but that's beside the point…do you know who attended this very high school, played track, and was at this very meet?"

"Well you run track, not play it sweetheart," Derek says slowly, trying to take the whole convoluted story in and process what it meant. "And no, I don't know, who?"

Penelope rolls her eyes. "Ryan August, the boy who committed suicide after dating a mystery woman!"

Derek thinks about that, rolling it over in his mind, before replying with some apprehension.

"Even if that is Amelia in the picture, it looks like a big meet, lots of locals, she could just be one of the crowd, baby girl." He doesn't want to bring her down, but he also doesn't want to waste time. "I mean it's definitely something, but as far as the kid…what do you think she had to do with that?"

Penelope looks frustrated with his response. She takes a deep breath before responding.

"I'm not sure, Spencer seemed interested, but it is a big deal Derek! This is a photo of Amelia. It is proof that she was in Canada in 2006, and that is more than anyone knew before!" She defends herself.

Derek holds up his hands to stave off her outrage. He can only imagine how hard she worked at this and how frustrating the search had been. He in no way wants to diminish that. Or under any circumstances, ever, make her cry again.

"You're absolutely right, as usual mama." Derek smiles, reaching out to rub her leg. "You are a genius, who should be celebrated worldwide, but we were fortunate enough to recruit you first. You always amaze me, girl."

She scoffs with a smile on her face. "I am certainly a technological genius, and the best hacker you could ever hope to meet, Derek Morgan. You are simply lucky I use my considerable talent for good, and not for posting pics on your Facebook that would destroy any hope you have of a future career in politics." She says winking at him, as she places her hand on top of his.

Derek laughs again, though he files that threat away in the back of his mind. Penelope Garcia is not to be messed with.

"We should tell the others, huh?" He asks, even though the last thing he wants at the moment is to deal with Callahan and Rossi.

"I told you so you could decide. Is that what you think we should do?" Penelope asks.

"I do, because I think we have been underutilizing our most valuable asset." He tells her honestly. "We don't need to be in Salt Lake City to help the boy wonder and our fearless leader. We can do it from right here, so let's go fill in the team."

"What would Green have that Amelia wanted?" Spencer asks into the uncomfortable silence that has fallen over the car, as they journey to Draper to visit the prison.

"That is the question," Hotch replies, not having been able to formulate an answer as of yet.

"Honestly, it appears as though she was every bit as experienced at cultivating rare plants as he was, so it seems unlikely she needed his help with that." Spencer thinks out loud, glancing at Hotch from the corner of this eye. The older man looks tense, back ramrod straight, eyes never leaving the road in front of him, even though they are on a long straightaway.

"I agree. There had to be more to it than that. Stumbling onto the knowledge that Green was gay is one thing, but she went to a lot of trouble be sure she had pictures that could destroy his career. She was keeping him honest." Hotch offers. "Were they in business together? I mean the poppies, the hybridizing?"

"Risky for her to take on a partner, so why do it? Maybe he had connections? To the cartel? Mafia? That's who could make use of undetectable poisons, or a better, purer form of Heroin right?" Spencer works through all the possibilities in his head.

Hotch looks grim at the prospect of organized crime being involved, but it was looking more probable by the minute.

"It stands to reason that she would need a market for her work." Hotch replies. "Where do you think our humble professor acquired mob connections though?"

"We should ask Garcia to look into it." Spencer suggests. "Maybe he said something of interest to her when they were working together."

"Doubtful." Hotch states. "But we will reach out to her after we finish at the prison."

Spencer feels like Hotch has been short with him since their conversation in Green's bedroom, and he wants to groan loudly, thinking back to when he all but propositioned his boss, being far more honest than he had any cause to be. He hadn't meant to say so much, it had just slipped out, even seemed natural under the circumstances…but then Hotch had just stared at him like he had grown a second head, and completely brushed him off. Sighing, he turns his attention to where they are turning into their destination.

The Utah State Prison, located in Draper, a short drive from Salt Lake City, is impressive with giant guard tower, eighteen-foot fences, and a massive main building, the facility sprawling across many acres. Spencer knows it was built in 1951 to replace the old Sugar House Prison, and that it houses over 4,000 inmates currently. It is backed by a spectacular mountain view, and Spencer can't help but think it's a bit of waste, since no one comes here for the express purpose of enjoying the scenery.

Hotch pulls into an employee lot, parking and shutting the car off, then sitting silently for long enough that Spencer begins to hope he is going to say something profound and unrelated to work; something that will make Spencer feel better about spilling his guts back at Green's, and validate the feelings that he has kept to himself for so long. He waits, barely daring to breathe, trying to allow Hotch a chance to process without interruption.

"Are you ready to do this? It will be a lot of walking." Hotch says finally, and Spencer feels his gut twist, as he lets annoyance counter the disappointment he is sure would otherwise be written all over his face.

Turning away to conceal his hurt, Spencer replies, "I'll manage."

A very telling sigh from Hotch, as he backtracks a little. "I'm going to help. I was asking about the pain and how you're feeling. That's all Reid."

"And I said I'll manage." Spencer retorts, with more edge than he intended. "Don't do anything you aren't comfortable with, Hotch."

Hotch has the nerve to look taken aback before responding. "Spencer, whatever you are thinking, now is not the time and I am not your enemy. Please don't make this hard."

Spencer takes a deep breath, endeavoring to ignore the knot forming in his chest at Hotch's dismissal. Again. Hotch is right though, he is not the enemy, and they do have a real enemy they need to focus on. He takes another deep breath, reminding himself this is his own fault; if you put your feelings out there, people can use them against you. He's known that all his life.

"I don't know what you're talking about Hotch. All I said was that I can manage. Let's go."

Hotch opens his mouth to say more, then thinks better of it, nods curtly and moves to get out of the SUV to go around to Spencer's side.

In the last few days, Hotch has become well practiced at acting as a crutch for Spencer, shoring him up and allowing him to lean on him however he needs. In tune and familiar with one another, Spencer has felt comfortable enough taking advantage of Hotch's support to minimize his discomfort. Now though, Spencer swears there is a break in their rhythm, as Hotch overthinks where to put his hands, and misses Spencer's cues to support him while he slides down from the SUV onto the ground. Stumbling, when Hotch is not in the right spot to steady him, Spencer regains his balance with effort, gasping at the pain that shoots up his leg, and all through his torso, as he clutches the car door in order to stay standing.

Startled by Spencer's hard landing, Hotch overcompensates and pulls Spencer toward him, causing another jolt of pain that Spencer can barely tolerate. Forcing himself to breathe, Spencer hisses through his teeth, unable to do anything but wait for the throbbing to recede enough that he can move again.

"Shit, I'm sorry Spencer." Hotch swears, moving back a little to give Spencer space, steadying him now, with a grip on his good shoulder, using his other hand to anxiously pull through his hair.

"Ok, it's fine Hotch. Just give me one second." Spencer manages to choke out through a wave of nausea.

It takes a long few minutes for Spencer to recover enough to take the cane Hotch is offering, and he badly wants the man to simply put his arm around him and pull him against his side so he can feel more stable, like he has in the past. Instead, Hotch just hovers, and Spencer has to ask him to come closer so that he isn't so afraid he's going to fall flat on his face, with no one near enough to catch him.

The trek to the building is long, with Spencer shuffling slowly along, but they navigate security with no issue, and are told the warden is expecting them. A guard appears to show them the way through the long winding corridors where no one smiles, intent on maintaining their tough persona's it seems, even when they are away from the prisoners. The guard is eager to usher them into the office, as if he would rather not be seen with them, and Spencer is too grateful to be able sit down to even care.

Hotch remains standing, slowly pacing, expressionless as he takes in the décor, likely coming to the same conclusions as Spencer, who is performing the same assessment from his seat.

The warden is untidy, likely accustomed to a wife cleaning up after him at home, and lacking the inspiration to do it for himself. Spencer observes the many framed photos adorning the walls, mainly of the warden playing football on a college team. Probably his glory days, and he hasn't had many since graduating, Spencer thinks derisively. Comparatively, there are only a few family photos, all of them sitting on the desk, not displayed prominently on the walls. The shelves hold a variety of law books, and Spencer concludes that the man likely aspired to be a lawyer, only falling into his current career when he failed to make it to law school. The wide range of knick-knacks aimed at stress relief and relaxation, make Spencer think that the warden is likely deep in debt, a leading cause of stress. Probably regretting his life choices too, so he pretends that his stress is not a result of his incompetence, but rather just something all people experience equally.

Leaning forward, Spencer flicks the Newton's cradle on the desk into motion and continues to survey the room. Spencer has never thought much of jocks, and he doesn't think much of the warden. The multiple trophies, and team paraphernalia that pass as decorations fail to impress, and the more he looks around the more he thinks the warden peaked a long time ago and has not been good at anything since. Certainly not keeping his prison safe.

Before Spencer can come to anymore conclusions based on his office alone, the door opens and the warden himself steps in, straightening his tie, and looking generally ill at ease. Hotch moves immediately to greet him, shaking his hand and introducing himself. Spencer, as always, declines to shake and only nods when Hotch introduces him as his partner, Dr. Reid.

"So, just tell me what I can help you with," the warden clears his throat and gets right to the point as he moves to sit behind his desk. Putting a physical barrier between himself and Hotch, so definitely intimidated, Spencer nods to himself. "Like I told the other agent, I am sincerely sorry you were not contacted about Farland immediately. Everything happened so quickly."

Spencer narrows his eyes, thinking how inelegant the warden is, stumbling over words and insincere apologies, while failing to provide any pertinent information. The man won't make eye contact, and Spencer can see the sheen of sweat on his mostly bald head from across the desk. Maybe he feels guilty. He should. He cost them the chance to talk to Benton, and Spencer can't shake the feeling that Benton had more to offer, lots more, even if he didn't know it himself. Spencer wanted to ask him how it felt to be close to Amelia, what it was like to love her and fear her at the same time, to know why he let her lead him down such a terrible path in the first place.

Spencer speaks up before Hotch can, pulling himself up in his chair and narrowing his eyes on the warden.

"We would like to speak to the guard who supervised Benton's visit right before he was killed." He emphasizes the word killed, leaning in to stare the warden down. "We would also like to know why you allowed Andy Farland, who was wanted by police, to walk in and out of here with no questions asked?"

Hotch says nothing out loud, but he clears his throat and pins Spencer with a meaningful look that Spencer ignores.

"It was an oversight, I assure you!" The warden is quick to exclaim. His gaze flits to Hotch, while he refuses to maintain eye contact with Spencer. "Andy Farland was on the previous list, so security let him through. There was no reason to check for an APB on him."

"There was every reason!" Spencer insists. "Have you eliminated all of your staff, and your kitchens as the source of the poison?"

"Everyone has been questioned, of course. Everyone is screened going in and out." The warden defends. "There was no one on my staff with any connection to Benton Farland, or any reason to kill him."

"I have heard money can be very motivating." Spencer offers, drawing himself up in his seat again. "It wouldn't be the first time-"

"Warden," Hotch cuts in, shooting Spencer a warning look. "We are only here to find out what happened, and we appreciate your cooperation. Can we have access to your surveillance footage?"

The warden glances at Spencer, but only briefly, before addressing his response to Hotch. Reading the dynamic and deciding Hotch is in charge, Spencer thinks, which irks him, but he's used to it. Standing, the warden runs a hand over his balding head, before buttoning his jacket and motioning to Hotch only.

"I can take you to meet with Jared, he supervised the visit. He's on shift today." The warden turns to Spencer and makes a gesture toward the chair he just vacated. "I can set you up with my log in and you can go through the security footage right here, from my computer."

As far as Spencer knew he and Hotch hadn't been planning on splitting up, and Spencer was annoyed that it was the warden who suggested it. He got the distinct impression that the warden preferred to deal with Hotch, and he would strongly object if his leg weren't so sore, and he didn't badly want to avoid a speed walk through the massive facility.

Hotch looks doubtfully at Spencer, but Spencer waves him off.

"That sounds fine." Spencer assures. "Go on, you can fill me in when you get back."

The warden didn't have a lot to say to Hotch on their winding walk through the employee section of the enormous prison building, beyond a few more muttered apologies. It doesn't make any difference now, as far as Hotch is concerned, and fighting with the warden won't help them resolve the case and find Amelia, which is all that matters.

Eventually they end up in a large lunchroom, unoccupied except for a stocky, dark-haired man, seated alone at a table by the wall of windows, looking extremely anxious. He is bouncing his leg under the table, and biting at the cuticles on his left hand, head snapping toward them as soon as they enter. Hotch would put him at no more than twenty-five, inexperienced, likely fresh out of college, and it could explain how Andy Farland was able to pass poison to Benton undetected.

The warden is quick to offer introductions.

"Jared, this is Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner from the FBI. He wants to talk to you about the visit you supervised last week between Benton and Andy Farland, as you know."

Jared stands to shake hands and Hotch accepts, then motions him to sit back down, while taking the seat across from him. Hotch needs to appear friendly and relatively informal, in the hopes of putting the younger man at ease. Spencer would have been a better fit for this interview, closer to the guards age and less intimidating, but he seems off today, snapping at the warden and being generally unfriendly. Hotch wasn't keen on throwing him into an interview that may require diplomacy.

Knowing surveillance will confirm the method used to poison Benton, what he really wants from Jared is to know what Andy and Benton talked about during the visit. He wants to know if the conversation had anything to do with Amelia, but he will have to tread lightly because it's obvious that Jared is afraid of losing his job. So, with the warden still in the corner of the room, he won't be easily forthcoming.

"First of all, I appreciate your talking to me today, we are just trying to get a clear picture of Benton Farlands morning before he was taken to hospital." Hotch keeps his tone neutral, and his body language relaxed, watching as Jared's eyes dart to the warden where he is standing watch. "What was the mood like? Did they argue?"

Jared swallows hard, biting at his bottom lip, collecting his thoughts before answering.

"No, it was the opposite. Farland-I mean Benton- he was a bit uptight at first, but he loosened up when Andy started talking." Jared stares at Hotch, barely blinking.

"What did he talk about?" Hotch prompts.

"Um…well Benton started to apologize right away, but I didn't get to hear what all for, because Andy cut him off. He said none of that mattered anymore and they needed to move on." Jared's forehead creases as he crosses his arms over his abdomen, and Hotch thinks he is deciding when to start lying.

"Ok." Hotch says neutrally, then waits for Jared to continue.

"Benton agreed, and he said they would always be family no matter what. Said he was planning to plead guilty to all the charges against him, try and atone for all he had done. He used that word. Atone." Jared recalls, shuffling his feet, crossing and uncrossing his legs.

"How did Andy react to that?" Hotch is not sure if Jared is being intentionally vague, but he needs details.

Jared shoots another nervous look to the warden and clears his throat before answering.

"He just repeated that it didn't matter anymore. After that they just talked back and forth. It was a bit sad and stuff, with Benton going away and all, but nothing unusual." Jared nods to himself, approving his own story.

"I'm looking for specifics, Jared." Hotch leans further forward, placing himself in closer proximity. "What exactly was sad?"

Hotch has been paying close attention, and he is certain now that this guard looked the other way when Andy passed something to Benton. He did it because he was empathetic, the "sad and stuff" comment tipping him to that. The relationship between these two, Andy and Benton, touched a nerve with Jared, probably because he had a brother he was close to and separated from. Possibly by an ongoing feud, a divorce maybe, but more likely an untimely death.

Jared clears his throat again, then nods slightly before answering.

"Andy told him not to worry, that he and Rebecca were going away, that they would stick together, make a life. He said he had help." Jared recalls, looking over toward the window, obviously wishing he could escape this conversation. "That really got Benton going, like he nearly grabbed Andy across the table, but he looked over at me and stopped himself. Then he said 'Go on your own Andy. You're not going to her. Promise me you aren't'…he sounded really desperate like, and I thought it was weird because why would he want them to go on their own if they had someone?"

It is a real question, and Hotch shrugs a little. "I'm not sure, Jared." He was absolutely sure. "Was there anything else?"

"Andy got real quiet after he said that. I thought he was mad and gonna yell, but then…" Jared trails off, eyes once again going to the warden.

"Jared," Hotch makes his voice serious but not stern. "I need the truth. It is extremely important you tell me everything."

Jared frowns, worry creasing his face, as he speaks after some thought.

"He took this bracelet off his wrist and went to hand it to Benton. He looked over at me first, and I shouldn't have let him, damn it! I should have taken it, but it was all so…sad. I mean I knew the story from the news, Benton was going away, the kid had lost so many people…I know what that's like." Jared is rambling, and he reaches up to rub at his face almost angrily. "It wasn't a big deal! But now I'm explaining it all to the FBI so it is!"

It was a big deal, Hotch is sure, but he feels very real sympathy for the man all the same. The blame doesn't rest on him, it rests on Amelia, and Jared is just another person run over by her agenda.

"What kind of bracelet?" Hotch asks, when Jared takes a deep breath, trying to get control again. Jared seems annoyed by the question.

"Like a friendship bracelet I think you'd call it. The girls were always making them in elementary school and giving them to each other. They're colorful and made out of string or whatever."

Hotch nods his understanding, letting Jared continue.

"So, he takes it off his own wrist and says that his mother made it for him, and now he wants Benton to have it. As proof that there are no more hard feelings. Those were Andy's exact words." Jared divulges. "Benton got all teary and said no, that Andy should keep it, but he insisted. Said if they never saw each other again he didn't want Benton to ever doubt that he believed him."

Jared turns away to collect himself, but only for a moment. Hotch is interested in the last statement. If Andy really believed Benton didn't kill his mother, then what did he believe was Amelia's role? Andy was either a very good actor or a sociopath himself.

"Then he takes a bracelet off his other wrist, Andy I mean, and says that this one belongs to Benton. That his mom told him about how she made it for her little brother before she went away to college, as a promise that she would be back. Benton doesn't even object this time, he's crying for real now, and Andy goes to tie them both on his wrists." Jared takes a deep breath. "I let him. I let them. There was no harm!"

If it was indeed Andy who did the poisoning it had to be have been the bracelets, is what goes through Hotch's head.

"I need you to really think, Jared. Did Andy say anything else?" Hotch asks. "Where he was going, or when he planned to leave? Who he was meeting maybe?"

"The only name he mentioned was Rebecca, and I think that was his sister." Jared says.

"What happened after he gave Benton the bracelets?" Hotch pursues.

"Nothing. Andy told him not to worry about them, that he would write even if he couldn't visit, and then he said he had to go." Jared reiterates. "The whole visit was around twenty minutes. Maybe less. That's it, and after Benton was just really quiet. Didn't make any trouble or anything."

Hotch is disappointed. Nothing about Amelia, no clear idea of what Andy had planned, or even if he knew what he was doing when he gave those bracelets to Benton. When he came to Salt Lake City to chase down a killer, Hotch had had no idea what they were unleashing, and now he's afraid there is no way to stop her.

Returning to the warden's office, Hotch finds Spencer concentrating on the computer screen in front of him, seated exactly where he left him not long ago. Knowing Spencer must have already viewed the fateful visit, Hotch is hoping he will be able to answer some of the questions that his interview with the guard brought up.

"Did you get through all the footage?" Hotch asks, as he steps back into the room.

Looking up, Spencer nods.

"Yes, it's a pretty simple system," Spencer replies, turning to Hotch as he reaches up with his right hand to rub his opposite shoulder, carefully, around the healing wound there. "Did you get anything useful from the guard?"

"Nothing we can use I don't think. Andy never mentioned Amelia, or at least not by name." Hotch informs him. "He let Andy give Benton a bracelet, well two bracelets, and that was all that changed hands between them."

Spencer nods. "Yes, that's the only thing on the video too. The bracelets would have to be the mode of delivery for the poison, but I'm not sure it's possible. We can have them analyzed to find out for sure."

"If that's the case, how was Andy able to wear them without being poisoned himself?" Truthfully Hotch has no doubt that it was Andy that killed Benton, it's only the motive and means that has him guessing.

"Vaseline?" Spencer offers. "Or some other kind of barrier cream? It would only have to work long enough to get in and out."

It was the same question Spencer had been asking himself, and the only answer he could come up with. In truth the surveillance footage hadn't put them any further ahead. Spencer watched Andy breeze through security unquestioned, and marveled that not one guard had watched the news that morning and put two and two together. Besides the bracelets being an interesting and unexpected means of delivery for a poison that Spencer was certain Amelia manufactured, they were no closer to locating her, or even understanding Andy's role in the big picture.

"Well it isn't a lot more to go on, but we need to exhaust all of our leads." Hotch placates, sensing Spencer's ever-increasing frustration. "We need to head to the hospital now, then I think we should go back to the hotel and put together our notes to see where we stand."

Spencer knows this is Hotch's way of telling him that they are done for the day, without outright making it an order. He would like to skip the hospital but knows that Hotch won't stand for it, and with forced leave hanging over his head he has no choice but to go. He won't jeopardize his ability to work the case and be left wondering if he could have done more.

He flashes back to Amelia's words in the shed…people will die because you won't be able to find me…

He has to hang on to the hope that that just isn't true.

Notes:

*crickets chirping* Uhh... Sorry guys... Totally my bad for that ridiculous hiatus, all the blame is on me, not TC. So if you must send angry characters, send them to me, I'm sorry. I will do my best to stay on track and help TC more.

The team has returned! We love Hotch and Spence, obviously, but we thought we needed to bring back their amazing team to help them out. Maybe with them back in the game we'll finally get that pesky Amelia, or not. Who knows? ...well I guess TC and I should... haha

We missed all of your lovely reviews and we thank you all for sticking by us, there will not be that long of a hiatus again. I am very sorry.

Keep us honest and keep us motivated, please review!

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~CC~